“So a girl came up to me on the plane and told me she was a fan, already having drunk my fair share I resumed making a right fool of myself talking her ear off about the band and how I’ve been writing some new material lately, until she butted in to inform me she didn’t even know I used to be in a band and that she meant she was a fan of the show. Not even me in particular, just the show in general. Needless to say I did not renew my membership to the mile high club on the way over here.”
You’re right. I can’t save you. The whole time he had me, there was some part of me that fought. There was some tiny corner of my brain that tried to get out. And I’m still fighting. I won’t stop fighting. But if you give up, I lose. Do you get that? He did this to you to get at me. To isolate me. To make me feel like an infection, one more person dead or dying because of me. So why don’t you remember how to be a goddamn human being again, instead of this self-pitying piece of shit that he turned you into, and save me for once? You choose.